


Stomach for Six

by aam5ever



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Vomiting tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aam5ever/pseuds/aam5ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael, please stop putting things you shouldn't in your mouth.</p>
<p>No, that isn't a dirty joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stomach for Six

There are very few things Geoff gets very protective, and more or less worried about. Usually, he and his crew were good at taking care of themselves, so he trusts them. However, he would never let anyone spare their life for him. He would not dare let a soul take Ray's DS from him (because good God the frozen tundra of hate that he can become could rival Ryan). Also, Geoff refused to give up any purchases without a fight because he had the city in his tattooed clutches, God damn it, the least he can do is buy an entire life's supply of Cheez-Its for Ryan and Gavin to fight over. 

One last thing... please don't dare Michael to eat dangerous things anymore. The kid would eat a shot bullet if you dared to test his digestive tract. 

"Hey Michael!" Ray had a nefarious smile splitting his face. "I'll give you my unfinished Pokemon Pearl if you eat Jack's sandwich."

For fuck's sake-

Geoff stepped in between the two before Michael could even make a sound. "You're not eating Jack's sandwich, I refuse to let that happen."

Suddenly, the bearded man was walking into the room. "Yeah, what Geoff said!" He sided with the boss. "I'm still supposed to eat that."

"No, you're fuckin' not!" Geoff protested. "I'm surprised that isn't even in the garbage by now. Besides," He craned his neck to the crew's Vagabond, who had just pushed up his glasses and was nose-deep into a book about Roman literature. Honestly, who would have expected a man that barely blinked at slitting a throat would be so enthralled with such mundane pastimes? "point-dexter here was supposed to take it to the trash a week ago. What the fuck, Ryan?"

The man looked up, only responding because he was expected to. "Forgot." And that was all his commentary before continuing to read. 

Ah, Jack's sandwich. The thing was probably a month old, unopened from the first time Jack ate half of it. They all poked fun at eating it as the food grew older and older in the crew's fridge. He always planned to eat it, but never acted on it. And now, Michael was presented with the idea of actually doing the deed.

How could he resist?

"Fuck yeah, I'll do it." Michael slaps the kitchen countertop. "Lemme at it."

As Ray is grinning manically in the background, Geoff basically throws himself in front of the fridge. "Are you crazy?" He speaks as if Michael was going into war. "That thing is like a decade old! You're going to take one bite of it and collapse and then I'm gonna have to hire Kerry to take your place."

"Geoff, please..." Michael manually removed him from in front of the fridge, pushing him to the side. "You can at least hire someone better." Jack let out a low "Ooooooh" as Ray joined in with a "Fuckin' burn!" 

The boss rolled his eyes. "Michael, you're fired if you eat that sandwich."

"I'll take my chances."

Ray, meanwhile, is swinging his feet from the counter he was sitting on. Usually his dares never got this far; this was a fucking treat. Jack had his arms folded, leaning against the sink to observe. Michael reached far into the fridge, pulling out the sandwich wrapped in foil. It didn't have a smell, as he pointed out when he checked it. 

Once it was opened, Ray made a face. Oh yeah, it actually had a smell. It was just wrapped tightly into the foil. It was half a sub, tomatoes sad looking and lettuce drooping. The bread was crushed, and looked like there may be a new life form on it. The chicken inside was questionable, and may not have been cooked well in the first place. 

Michael took it into his hands, a small look of regret in his face. Ray was chanting "Do it, do it" while Geoff made small whining sounds. 

The first bite, and everyone was staring in anticipation. Even Ryan looked over to check out all of the commotion. The second bite... maybe this sandwich wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. The third bite- okay yeah this wasn't a big deal.

"It tastes... funny..." Michael remarked with a mouth full of sandwich. He swallowed before examining it a little bit. "But not unbearable. I wouldn't be writhing over this." He flipped the bird, at Ray, who sucked his teeth.

"Damn it!" He cursed. "I thought I could make a viral video out of this." 

Geoff smirked, and Michael finished off the rest. "I owe you a sandwich," He pointed at Jack, "and you owe me Pokemon Pearl." His finger then landed on an upset Ray.

"Seriously?" It was obvious that Geoff saw the bet as the most unecessary part of all this. "I could fucking buy you that game."

"You don't understand..." Ray tossed the game to Michael, who was wiping off some crumbs from his other hand. 

He nodded in agreement. "He's right. It's more of a... moral victory." Michael pocketed the game with a satisfied smile. "Pleasure doing business with you, Ray."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off." 

The day then continued on pretty much the same. Nobody really talked about the dare after that. It was nothing too special, and weirder shit had occurred in Geoff's penthouse. Evening came sooner than expected, but mainly because of anticipation of tomorrow. A heist was planned, so Geoff was going over it with Jack in the living room. 

He pointed at the part of the notes he had worked out. "Do you think we'll make good pay this time?"

Jack stroked his chin, unsure. They had been on a bit of a dry streak of new cash, each robbing or heist not really making a respectable haul. "Maybe... it depends on how well we can get in and out of there. It's a big place, don't you think?"

The boss nodded, a hand absentmindedly running along his tattooed forearm. "Yeah, you're right..." They continued to talk when a sound drew their eyes away from the table covered with plans. That was when he heard Michael sighing from the kitchen. 

The fireball himself soon sat by Jack on the couch, rubbing his tummy. "Whatcha guys talking about?" A pain wave hit him, and Geoff could see him visibly wince.

"You, uh... you alright, buddy?" He asked, caring instincts kicking in.

Michael gave him a weird look. "Peachy." Eyes traveled down to the scrawlings of a madman and the markings on the map. "Oh yeah, we're on the run tomorrow again." 

"Yeah." Jack answered the question that barely was one. "Maybe we'll get a good amount of money this time." He cracked his knuckles to relieve some tension. "Or at least crack enough skulls to do so."

At that, Michael nodded in understanding. "Alright... ugh, my stomach hurts a little." He nibbled at his lip, as if nervous.

"Wanna go lie down?" Geoff asked. Michael wordlessly got up and headed for the boss' bedroom, so he might just be taking his advice. 

Now, at this time they all should have realized. They all should have known something was up. Unfortunately... it was later that the inevitable happened. 

Michael stayed in Geoff's guest room now, feeling sick. The boss sighed, feeling as if they may be in a bit of a sticky situation. "That damn sandwich..." He was certain it was food poisoning. 

"I'll be fuckin' fine, dude." Michael claimed. He had water by the bedside. "I just feel like I'll pass out if I try to get home. By morning, I'll be out of your hair."

Climbing into his bed's satin sheets after that small talk, Geoff's head hit the pillow and eyes were closed. Maybe Michael will be better by tomorrow...

An inhuman noise came from his bathroom in between what-the-fuck and why-the-fuck o'clock. He awoke with a start, immediately sitting up and looking around. There it was again, that noise. Geoff carefully slipped out of bed, slippers at his bedside for him to put on. 

Walking into the frigid living room (central air gave him a better reason for all those sheets), Geoff scanned the area. The bathroom door was slightly open, artificial light pouring through. A gun was taped under the coffee table, and Geoff retrieved it, taking the safety off just in case he had to do some quick shooting. He approached the bathroom, and quickly threw open the door.

Michael's head was over the toilet, hair disheveled and body shivering. He sniffed, but didn't even register that the door had been opened. He was seated on the cold patterned tile floor, one hand in a tight fist and the other gripping the toilet seat. He was paler than anyone could imagine, his eyes slightly puffy and reddened.

"Michael! Jesus Christ, I could have killed you."

He seemed startled by the voice, shoulders tensing before coughing and responding. "Do it," His voice was hoarse. "kill me, put me out of this Hell-" He lurched forward and threw up more, causing Geoff to wince. Poor guy.

The gun was placed on the bathroom counter as Geoff crouched down by Michael. He rubbed his back as he spit into the toilet, moaning. "I'm so sorry..." Yet, he still had to follow it up with, "But I did tell you not to eat that sandwich."

"Sh-shut up..." Michael said in the least threatening way possible. He was hunched over, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He couldn't lie, the warmth of Geoff's hand on his back comforted him, but he still groaned at his stomach found a new way to fuck around. 

Geoff looked apologetic as Michael squeezed his eyes tight, preventing tears. "Dude, you're so messed up..." The glare he got from him caused him to smirk. "Even though there isn't much for you to do about it now."

He stayed in the bathroom with the sick lad for a while, asking him if he needed anything and Michael demanding he leaves. After the first few times of his pleading, Michael sighed. His boss was going nowhere. "I don't think I can- ugh, God... do the heist." 

"Yeah," Geoff gestured to all of him. "No shit." He then laughed to himself before saying, "You think the LSPD'll wonder where our golden 'attack dog' is?"

The other man laughed too before starting to cough. "I-I thought that was Ryan's name."

"Eh, he's more of an unleashed evil than an attack dog." 

"Besides..." Michael took a moment to check if he was going to upchuck again. When he was in the clear, he finished his thought. "You're not supposed to exchange recipes with the police. You're meant to shoot them." 

Geoff shrugged, starting to get up. "In this town, those two phrases mean the same thing." As he walked out, he saluted his fellow crew member. "Fine, I'll finally leave you alone now. Take care of yourself, and stop taking dares for Christ's sake."

"No promises." Michael answered with a salute, and then turned to vomit into the toilet once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: aam5ever


End file.
